Break Me Shake Me
by Scrawlers
Summary: When Lloyd and Colette prove impossible to find, the Vanguard resort to trying to get their locations from Tethe'alla's Chosen One. The problem lies in the fact that Zelos does not want to give in, no matter how much Alice tortures him. Darkfic, oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **As much as I love Alice, Richter, Decus and Tenebrae, if I owned Tales of Symphonia, the second game would not have happened. At least, not in the way that it did.

**Authors' Note: **A bit more graphic than my other works, and yet another that I wrote awhile ago, but all the same . . . Inspired by the song "Break Me, Shake Me" by Savage Garden. Takes place in an AU of the second game in which Zelos isn't as sly as he usually is and the Vanguard thinks he could be useful for information. You'll notice that I've changed Alice's nickname for Colette; it's because I think "Collie" rolls of the tongue easier than "Colettie," and because it's a nice little allusion to Colette's love for dogs (not to mention that, by calling her a species of dog, Alice is really calling Colette a bitch without really saying it).

As always, dear readers – please review if you read!

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**Break Me Shake Me**

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Two things were known the world over:

Alice of the Vanguard was a sadist.

And Zelos Wilder loved women.

It almost seemed like the perfect situation, in the eyes of some - so long as the perfect situation was to have a man exposed to varying forms of torture and for that man to still continue to toss out flippant remarks and defiant smirks. It was almost a game between them, for both were smiling, though the underlying meanings in their words was anything _but_ friendly. Hatred laced their almost lighthearted tones and burned in their eyes. In that small interrogation chamber, two things were absolutely certain:

Zelos Wilder was not giving in.

And Alice of the Vanguard was going to work until she broke him.

"You know, you're _very_ stubborn, Zelos," Alice drawled, tapping her toy rapier against her palm as she studied him. "Most _soldiers_ succumb to me after an hour at most. I had Hawkie submit after one duel. Why are you so different? I thought you'd do anything for a pretty girl."

"A pretty girl, yes," Zelos replied, a tight, mocking smile still present on his features. "But I'm not into bestiality, Alice, so I won't go for a bitch."

Alice laughed her high-pitched little laugh before anger stole over her expression, and her arm lashed out; the rapier caught Zelos on his cheek, knocking his head to the side, and creating yet another bleeding gash.

"I s'pose telling you 'not the face' won't change your mind about that, huh?" Zelos asked darkly, spitting blood out of his mouth, and Alice merely laughed again, winking.

"Not a chance!"

"Figures."

The room was simple. Stone walls save for a mirror along the left wall, a heavy steel door serving as the only way in or out. Torches on the right and back walls provided the only light, casting haunting shadows in the nooks and crannies of the room. Zelos was seated in a hard wooden chair, his arms yanked behind him and tied at the wrist. His Cruxis Crystal had been removed, preventing him from casting magic with any real force behind it, and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair as well. It was there that he'd woken up - though at that time, he hadn't been touched save for having his Cruxis Crystal and protective gear removed.

Now, however, his coat and shirt were completely stripped, revealing his admittedly well-toned chest. Alice had cut his upper clothing away first thing, tossing them to the side, and Zelos had made a joke about how he wasn't surprised; all girls wished they could tie him up and strip away his clothing.

Alice had laughed, and then raked his fingernails down his chest hard enough to draw blood. The blood from those long wounds was dried now, both on his skin and caked beneath her fingernails. She'd then proceeded to yank his long red hair forward, and cut it short - cut it so short that it didn't even grace his chin. Zelos whined that she had left him with plenty of split ends and uneven cut, and Alice had proceeded to yank his head back so that it cracked against the back of the chair that he was tied to.

It was only after that action that she'd finally begun to ask the questions.

_"You know, your friends Lloyd and Collie are_ very _hard to find. But I bet_ you _know where they are, don't you, Zelos? Why don't you tell me? If you do, I promise not to hurt you too much more . . ."_

_"After you gave me such a bad haircut? Please, Alice. I've learned not to tip people who give third-rate service."_

That remark earned him her entire weight on his left foot, which he was fairly certain broke after that, despite her small stature.

In all reality, Zelos looked and felt like a mess. Besides the scratches that ran from his collarbone down to his belly button, lacerations from her toy rapier decorated his chest, leaving it a mess of bloodied wounds. She'd used her nails to make some of those cuts wider, as well, tearing at his flesh and ripping it as best she could with her fingernails every time he failed to answer one of her questions (or, rather, answered them jestingly, refusing to tell her the truth). His arms had been tied behind his back since before he'd woken up in the chair, and his shoulders were so sore from it that they almost felt numb. His head was throbbing from when she'd slammed it into the chair, and he didn't even _want_ to look in a mirror. Her strike across his cheek wasn't the first time she'd attacked his oh-so-pretty face, after all; his vision was distorted due to blood from a strike across his left eye (he considered himself lucky that although the flesh above and below his eye was wounded, his actual eye didn't seem to be), and she'd struck him with her toy rapier several times before that. Zelos wondered briefly if he should mentally kiss his hunnies goodbye; he was positive those wounds were going to leave scars.

Aside from his left foot being broken, Zelos was fairly certain his right hand was unusable; earlier, Alice had struck a metal pike through his wrist, promising him in a cheerful tone: _"Unless you can find a_ really _good doctor, Zelos, you won't ever have to worry about wielding a sword again. . . . Or doing anything else with that hand, for that matter. Severed tendons don't really do much for good coordination."_

Zelos had been there for an unknown amount of time - hours, maybe even days. He didn't sleep - he _couldn't_ sleep. Alice didn't _allow_ him to sleep. She wasn't always there - she left periodically - but she always seemed to come back just as Zelos felt himself slipping into oblivion. He was in pain, tired, hungry, and damned thirsty - and, all in all, not in a very good mood. Zelos had pointed out to her that pissing him off wasn't going to get her any answers any time soon, but she'd merely laughed and slammed her elbow into his jaw.

It was enough of a reminder to Zelos that sadists didn't care what they got, aside from the satisfaction of causing another person pain - and it didn't have to be physical. At one point, after asking if he was thirsty and receiving confirmation, Alice left the room briefly, and returned with a glass of ice cold water. Instead of giving it to him, which would have been a _very_ welcome relief, she set it on the wooden table propped up in the middle of the room, leaving it there aside from periodically drinking from it herself. After all, as she told him, she was thirsty, too. Interrogating prisoners was very exhausting.

She didn't _look_ exhausted, though. Aside from Zelos' blood, which had splashed onto her cream-colored coat, Alice looked untouched. Each of her white-blonde curls was still perfectly in place, her amber eyes glinting with delight. Only her coat showed any signs of blood, and as punishment for getting it dirty, Alice struck Zelos more with her toy rapier. She'd lamented that blood was nearly _impossible_ to clean.

_"Why don't you lick it off?"_ Zelos had suggested. _"Even female dogs like the scent and taste of blood, right?"_

That earned him a strike from her rapier across his right ear.

In truth, Zelos almost thought the situation was funny - but only because it was so unlike him. Years ago, he could have cracked at the first strike. He would have told her anything she wanted to know - betrayed whomever she wanted him to betray - so long as he didn't have to face any pain or deformation. He wouldn't have given it a second thought. The old Zelos Wilder just wanted a pain-free, easy, simple, comfortable life. That didn't include sitting in interrogation rooms while demonic, sadistic little half-elves tortured you and gave you permanent scarring.

But there he was, not giving up a single word on the location of his best friend and fellow Chosen One. There he was, taking hit after hit, replying with flippant comments that only earned him more pain. He could easily have Lloyd or Colette take his place. The Vanguard wanted Lloyd so that he couldn't prove it was truly Decus committing all the crimes, and Alice wanted Colette for her Cruxis Crystal. Both Lloyd and Colette would likely end up dead if the Vanguard got their hands on them, and Zelos would walk free.

Still, he didn't speak a word. It was so horribly comical that Zelos almost laughed. It wasn't like him at all.

A little while ago, Alice had brought a silver case into the room, and had set it upon the table. Now, she returned to it, opening the case, and pulling out a long, needle-like instrument, as well as a bottle of ink. Walking over to one of the torches, she held the needle against the flame for a few moments before pulling it away, striding over to where Zelos was seated.

"Tell me, Zelos," she began conversationally. "Did anyone ever tell you the story of my duel with Hawkie?" Upon not receiving an answer, Alice continued. "I dueled him in order to take his position as commanding officer of the Vanguard's combat unit. Not only did I do _that_ but I also left him a permanent reminder of what he was to me. Do you know what that reminder was, Zelos? It was a set of scars on his back. Scars that formed very distinct words: _Alice's Pet._"

"I'm sure he appreciates the reminder," Zelos replied sarcastically, and Alice nodded, grinning ear to ear.

"Oh, Hawkie is the most loyal pet I have. Sure, he messes up more than he succeeds, but no one ever said my pets were smart. But I'm sure you're much smarter than Hawkie, aren't you, Zelos? Your smart mouth has told me that much already, so I'm sure _you_ won't disappoint."

Zelos narrowed his eyes, but before he had the chance to reply, Alice moved so that she was standing by his left arm, saying, "Now, hold still! . . . Not that you have much _choice_ otherwise, of course." A little giggle followed her words, and then - after dipping the needle-like instrument into the ink - Alice began the procedure. A hiss of pain escaped through Zelos' clenched teeth as Alice began to tattoo her name in his left arm, placing the dots very close together and making the letters very large, wanting to make sure they would stretch from his shoulder down to his forearm. After every few dots she dipped the needle into the ink again, carefully ensuring that the red ink would stay very vivid against his bare skin. It was still impossible for Zelos to tell time, but he knew that an hour must have passed before she was finished. He glanced over, scowling as he read "ALICE'S" trailing down his arm. He didn't have to ask her to know what was coming next.

By the time Alice was done, Zelos was sure he would never be able to go sleeveless during the summer again. "ALICE'S PET" was successfully tattooed on his arms, with his left behind entirely covered by her name, and his right having "PET" tattooed from his shoulder to his elbow. Alice looked quite pleased with herself, and she had a skip in her step as she moved to put the needle and ink away, even whistling a little tune.

"Now, no one will be able to deny who you belong to," Alice told him cheerfully, but Zelos merely continued to give her a defiant look.

"I don't belong to _anyone,_ Alice, least of all you."

"Oh, but see, that's where you're _wrong_, Zellie," Alice purred, and his expression shifted to one of disgust at the new nickname. She strode over to him, pausing just before him, a small, familiar knife in her hands. She paused, and then gave him an almost seductive smile before bending down to cut off his pants. Zelos raised an eyebrow at her, and couldn't resist the next comments that came out of his mouth.

"Not that I can blame you, since I know that hunnies can't stay away from the Great Zelos Wilder, but are you _sure_ you're eighteen? Because this feels a lot like it's going to turn into statutory rape."

Alice looked up at him, winking. "I'm old enough. But this will only go on for as long as you continue to withhold information about Lloyd and Collie. So, if you don't want it to turn into rape of any kind . . ." Alice climbed on top of him to straddle his now bare lap. A gasp escaped his lips at the contact, and she reached up to pull his chin forward, her face an inch or so from his and her amber eyes piercing his cerulean irises. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You'll tell me where they are."

Slowly, Zelos shook his head. "No can do," he replied, and though his tone was glib, his voice was hushed, and somewhat strained. Her close contact was irritating the wounds on his chest, and it didn't help that she'd taken off his pants before deciding to straddle him. "But you know, I can think of a few nice things you can do with _your_ mouth, now that we're in this position . . ."

A small, seductive smirk formed on Alice's lips, but before she could reply, the steel door burst open. In a flash, someone had crossed the room and pulled Alice off Zelos, spinning her around to place her on her feet before a fist collided with the side of Zelos' already throbbing jaw.

"Don't you dare make another move on my Alice!" Decus of the Vanguard bellowed, panting as though he'd run a marathon to get to the room in enough time. Zelos turned to look at Decus, a look of incredulity on his battered features.

"I'm tied to a chair, dehydrated, beaten, and starving. What kind of moves can I make? If anything, _she_ was the one seducing _me_!"

"Slander!" Decus waved one arm out dramatically, his expression positively furious. "Don't talk about my Alice as if she's some sort of shameless hussy!"

Given Zelos' experience with shameless hussies, he was about to remark that Alice was rather acting like one, but Alice stomped her foot and let out a nearly inhuman shriek, glaring heatedly at Decus.

"Dumbo-Decus! Just what do you think you're doing?! I'm in the middle of interrogating him!"

"Alice!" Decus swiveled around to face her, placing one hand upon his heart and using the other to grab one of hers, leaning forward to stare into her eyes. "I had to save you from that womanizing, lecherous fiend! I couldn't let him put his hands on you, couldn't let him take your precious maidenhood . . ."

"Uh, hello? My hands are tied behind this chair. I can't put them _anywhere,_ much less on her," Zelos spoke up, but he went blatantly ignored. Alice grunted a sound of disgust, pulling her hand out of Decus' in order to smack him soundly across the face.

"You _idiot_, Decus! You absolutely _ruined_ it! That was part of my interrogation plan, and you _ruined_ it!" Alice wrinkled her nose, drawing away from him. "_And_ you stink, besides! I told you to stop buying that cologne!"

"It's supposed to make you love me! The catalogue promised!" Decus wailed, placing a hand upon his stinging cheek. Marching back to the table, Alice grabbed her toy rapier again, her anger still clearly present upon her face.

"Just get _away_ from me, Decus, and _stay_ away! And as for _you_, Zelos," Alice looked back over at him, all traces of earlier seduction gone, "I'll be back in a bit." With that, she turned and marched from the room, Decus scampering after like an attention starved puppy. The door slammed behind them, and Zelos' head dropped down with a sigh.

He was in pain. He was possibly in more pain than he'd ever been in his life. His arms were sore and burning from the new tattoos placed upon them; his chest was still throbbing, as was his head; he was hungry and thirsty and tired and now sexually aroused to boot with no way to solve _that_ little problem . . .

And yet, Zelos couldn't help the shadow of a smile that crossed his lips. Because even though he was bruised and battered and sore and tired and hungry and thirsty and turned on . . . he _still_ wasn't going to betray his best friend.

And _that_ was something he could at least be proud of.


End file.
